


Reaping the Benefits

by teamchaosprez



Series: Overwatch 1920s AU [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Amputation, Chronic Pain, Explosions, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9466418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamchaosprez/pseuds/teamchaosprez
Summary: Gabriel Reyes, once a great soldier and once a great man, has gone down a rather dark path. Part of my 1920s AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HERE'S REAPY.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

And the panic passed.

Gabriel Reyes sighed a heavy sigh, leaning back in the chair on Amelie’s front porch he sat on and glaring at the city skyline. Although he didn’t appear or act like he should be, he was terribly afraid of death after one too many brushes with it in the past; this was probably the only thing that made his new job hard for him, what with the constant possibility of being shot and all. He had sharp spikes of fear all across his chest almost every time he went on a new heist, and the difficulty breathing that came with his panic attacks was almost as painful as the chronic pain that he sometimes woke up with.

But it was worth it, for the many benefits that his job offered him - money, being feared by all he passed, relative safety when he walked down streets claimed by his employers, and some form of revenge on the people that had wronged him and betrayed him during the war working for the opposite side. There was also the heavy job security offered to him, so long as he made no moves to betray his organization. Really, the only downside was the fact that he had to face his phobia almost daily.

He wasn’t aware of the presence of Amelie until she sat next to him, holding a cup of black coffee in her hand that she held out for him to take. Gabriel grunted a thanks and took it, bringing the bitter scalding liquid to his lips and taking a sip, flinching slightly at the burning sensation that rushed down his throat. “You’re terrible at making coffee,” he grumbled in a tone that was gruff but lacked the real toxicity that would have leaked through if he was genuinely trying to insult her.

“Perhaps it is not my coffee, but your impatience,” Amelie responded, not even phased as she blew gently on her own cup to cool it and stared rather intently at the equally large houses across the street. She had quite a bit of wealth left to her by her husband and her own family, so upon moving to America she was quite easily able to buy one of the nicer houses - though, as Gabriel had it explained to him, she still had to perform for money because she had been scammed by the immigration process.

Not as thoroughly as his own parents had been, he was sure, but he didn’t want to bother his friend with a long winded sob story. She was already pretty patient with his bullshit. He complained to her often, and about almost anything that was bothering him (usually something Morrison did, or a shitty memory about how he’d been backstabbed during the war, or something related to either or both). As much as she liked to put on the front of being a cold and emotionless shell of a human being, she was a damn good friend.

Gabriel was grateful for her, but he wasn’t much for sappiness.

“I have a heist today,” he spoke, staring at the dark liquid in his cup. “Targeting one of OW’s casinos. If it’s pulled off right, the boss thinks we could end up with a lot of money and a hit on one of their sensitive spots. And if I pull it off right, I could get a little more recognition.” Not like that was what he was going for - he liked working solo and being in the shadows. But it would be nice to get a little bit of praise for his hard work, he supposed - that way, he could reap the benefits of this dangerous mess of a job much, much more efficiently.

“Aren’t you just a bodyguard?” Amelie responded dryly, rolling her eyes slightly. Gabriel knew that she was a little uncomfortable with having a friend in the mob; she had explained it to him quite clearly and viciously, in fact, and yet he continuously asked her to tag along sometime or talk to his bosses. She was a good shot; she would be very useful, he was sure of it. 

“Yes, but there happens to be a lot of running and fighting involved in being a bodyguard for these particular mobsters,” Gabriel shrugged slightly, taking another swig of his coffee, now better able to ignore the hotness. Normally, he would wait for it to cool down, but he needed to leave soon, and he was desperate for some form of caffeination. “It’s a good gig, you know, even if it’s exhausting - I still think you should consider it. I mean, a lot of people that the both of us would like some revenge on have joined OW, too, so it’s not like it’d be just for the money…” 

“I do not want revenge on the people that Gerard worked with,” Amelie interrupted before he could continue talking, her glare turning downright murderous and her lips furrowing down into the most serious frown Gabriel had ever seen on her face - and that was an achievement. “And I do not want to be dragged into your petty plots for vengeance, either. I am your friend, but your problems are your own, and I am not going to hurt anybody to solve them. I am not going to hurt anyone ever again.”

Well, she was being reasonable enough, so he reluctantly accepted the answer with a heavy sigh. “My offer stands if you ever want to take it,” he responded in his gravelly and dark voice, rising slowly and stretching his aching joints with a faint pop and a wince. He wasn’t sure if it was chronic pain or if he was just getting old, but either way he couldn’t say he was a fan. “I’d best get going, though. I don’t feel like showing up late and missing everything. You going to be okay on your own?”

“I am not a child, Gabriel,” Amelie responded impatiently, taking the coffee cup from him and rolling her eyes. “But yes, I will be fine. I have a date with Lena.”

“Good.”

And with that, he walked down off of the porch and left.

* * *

 

Once upon a time, Gabriel Reyes was a soldier. A good one, too. Loyal to his team, ruthless to the enemy. He was a being of patriotism and strength, and joining the United States armed forces to serve in the Great War hadn’t been a hard decision at all. He was placed in a squadron with some of the best men he’d ever served alongside, and this included Jack Morrison, who he quickly struck up a friendship with and may have had additional feelings for.

Gabriel fought valiantly for his country, and Jack fought just as hard. They got along like a house on fire - they were best friends, excellent fighting partners, and both had a sense of patriotism that kept them fighting even when conditions in the trenches reached beyond deplorable and every battle got a little harder. The occasional privacy they could manage to steal away together did a lot to make the entire effort worth it as well.

He had a knack for getting himself into a lot of trouble whenever it was damn well possible. He was injured in multiple fights and scuffles, but never fatally, and Dr. Angela Ziegler always patched him up with a heavy sigh, a small smile, and a shake of her head. She was always saying to him how lucky he was to survive every time someone tried to kill him, and for the most part, he would glance at Jack and make some offhanded comment about how his friend was luckier than he was. Usually, in response he would get a laugh and a shove, and a hell of a scolding for scaring him like that.

Yes, Gabriel Reyes was a very lucky man, to have so many strokes with death and come out relatively easily every time. He knew he was; he considered himself to be so.

Until suddenly he wasn’t.

Funnily enough, he wasn’t even in a trench or on the field the day he almost died. He was sitting in the medical tent with Jack, who was recovering from a gunshot wound to the leg that Angela had patched up for him before it could get dirty and infected. They were having the first cup of coffee they’d tasted in weeks, and chatting about anything that passed their minds.

Mostly home. Fighting in Germany was exhausting, and both of them missed where they came from; Jack longed for the hustle and bustle of New York City, and Gabriel wanted nothing more than to return to the sunny shores of Florida. He remembered that both of them were amused that they came from the same country but had such different homes and backgrounds. The night was a fairly good one, despite the recent loss of their dear friend, sniper Ana Amari.

The event that almost took Gabriel and Jack’s lives was a bomb, planted by an undercover German. A low blow to strike morale; to take out the most wounded and helpless of them that were supposed to be safe in such a secluded location. Nobody recognized the beeping until it was too late; there was a massive explosion in one corner of the medical tent, the corner just opposite Gabriel and Jack. Gabriel threw his body over his friend to protect him from the blast; he had no idea where Angela was, but he would have tried to protect her, too, if he could see her.

He was wounded. Badly.

The blast took out both of his legs, and one of his arms. He thought that he was dead for a solid second for the darkness of unconsciousness and the ringing in his ears, but when he noticed the screaming he discovered that he wasn’t, in fact, done for yet.

But he was completely alone. Jack was gone. There was no Angela to be seen. And when he forced his eyes open, he noticed that every man and nurse that had been in the tent was running away, leaving behind those that were dead and wounded.

Leaving Gabriel alone to suffer and die.

And, God, suffer he did, but he was determined not to die by himself in a flaming medical tent. He dragged himself with his one remaining arm, woozy from blood loss and only shock keeping away his pain, out of the tent and far away from the flames. He collapsed in the dirt, and despite his attempts to create tourniquets out of his clothing and some nearby sticks he became very, very aware that he was probably going to die.

After thirty six hours of laying awake in agony, waiting, he wanted to die.

Jack and Angela were the ones to find him on the door of death. He begged them to just let him end, to just stay with him while he died. But they would have none of that. Jack carried him all the way to the nearest hospital, through a bumpy truck ride and all, and Angela fixed him up with proper tourniquets until his bleeding could be stopped and he could be fit with some very expensive prosthetics. They saved his life, but he hadn’t wanted to be saved.

Now, he lived with waking pain, a phobia that was completely ridiculous, and constant nightmares. He lived in a world that had so much fun whilst being unbeknownst to his suffering.

Gabriel Reyes, once a great soldier and a great man, became bitter and angry, and wanted nothing more than revenge on the people who had abandoned him to die alone. That was where Talon came in. The Talon family was an extensive mafia working in New York City that hired Gabriel because of his history serving in the army and his intimidating presence, and he became their greatest hitman and bodyguard. Mostly because many of the men who had abandoned him now worked with the rival family.

But more than anything, he wanted revenge on Dr. Angela Ziegler for saving him when he would have been better off dead. Every time he woke up in pain, he imagined her suffering the way he did, and he felt better. Every time he had a panic attack, he imagined her struggling to breathe like he did, and he felt better. He knew that his anger at the doctor that only did her duty as a surgeon and as a friend was misplaced, but damn if he latched onto that rage.

Jack, for reasons he wouldn’t disclose, he had forgiven. They were repairing their friendship, rekindling their relationship. Even if that hurt, he was glad he was doing it.

Gabriel Reyes, former soldier, former great man, watched the building where he had planted a bomb from a safe distance and took a swig from the whiskey his employer had handed him. His dark eyes glared, unforgiving, as he waited for his revenge.

The building exploded with a loud  **_BOOM_ ** and the shattering of glass and the screaming of everyone that had been inside.

And Gabriel Reyes let out a low chuckle, ignoring the flashback poking at the back of his mind.

He was reaping the benefits of this job.

**Author's Note:**

> i love this au a lot so comments would be appreciated??? i'm liking this one-shot format so far


End file.
